20. Roger Bow , Waterman , was indicted for the Murder of Thomas Field , by giving him, with a Knife, one mortal Wound in the left side of the Belly, near the Navel, of the Length of one Inch, and Depth of 8 Inches, May 16 . of which he languished till the next Day, and then dy'd .

He was a second time indicted on the Statute of Stabbing, and a third time on the Coroner's Inquisition, for the said Murder.

Thomas Crumpton . The Deceas'd was standing at Mr. Evans's Door, in Hungerford street , and I at Mr. Loddington the Butcher's, which is next Door. The Prisoner came from the Water-side in his Shirt, and Slip-shod. He ask'd the Deceas'd for a Pin, the Deceas'd look'd on his Sleeve, but made no Answer. Damn it, I will do it, says the Prisoner, and reaching over the Butcher's Shop-board, he took up a Carving-knife, and said, Damn my Blood, I'll cut my own Throat; and then directly stab'd the Deceas'd in the left side of the Belly, dropt the Knife, and ran away. The Deceas'd stept into the Shop, fell on his right side, and cry 'd, O Lord! I am Stab'd. I took up his Waistcoat, and saw a little Blood; but when I turn'd up his Shirt, I saw part of his Cawl hang out. The Wound was about an Inch broad. I help'd him up, and Mr. Wilky, the Surgeon, was sent for. This was about 10 at Night, and he dy'd the next Night - The Prisoner being carried before the Justice next Morning, somebody said he stab'd the Deceas'd with his left Hand. No, says the Prisoner, but I stab'd him with my right Hand, and I never saw him before - The Deceas'd was a Stranger, he had been but 5 Weeks in Town.

Prisoner. I was not in my Senses.

Thomas Crumpton . He was very much in Liquor, and I believe that was all that ail'd him - Indeed he afterwards said he had been a Bed, but that the Devil had work'd in his Head all the Morning, so that he was oblig'd to get up, and do some Mischief.

James Roughhead . I saw the Prisoner take a Carver off the Shop-board, and push at the Deceas'd, throw down the Knife, and endeavour to run away, but I took him, for I was but 5 or 6 Yards off.

Jury. How could he run, when he was so drunk.

James Roughhead He ran but 2 or 3 Doors. and then threw himself down, and I took him up, and then he ran across the Way to a Fishmonger's shop, and beat the Fish about.

James Roughhead . I was at Supper, and hearing a Noise, I ran out, and the People said, there was a drunken Man in the Street.

Council. Was he drunk, or otherwise disorder'd in his Senses?

James Roughhead . He was certainly disorder'd with Drinking, for he was very much fuddled, but I did not apprehend he was under any other Disorder.

James Wilky , Surgeon. On Thursday Night I was sent for to Mr. Evans, the Deceas'd's Master, but when I came, the Deceas'd was gone to my House. I went home, and drest him. He was wounded in the left side of the lower Belly. A Piece of his Cawl hung out: It was cut, and I cut it off. I did not probe the Wound, for it went quite through; I drest him again, next Morning, but he dy'd between 9 and 10 at Night. I open'd him on Saturday, the Knife had divided the Epigastrick Artery, and the great Gut, and the Wound was the Cause of his Death.

William Kemp , Constable. The Mob carried the Prisoner to St. Martin's Watch-house, and put him in the Hole below. When I came there, I heard him a swearing at a prodigious rate; he curst the House where he had been drinking, and sometimes lamented, and cry'd O Lord! O Lord! I went down to him (for I was above before.) He said he had kill'd a Man, and was sorry for it; but Damn it, he was drunk, and the Liquor had done it, and he would dye with all the pleasure in Life. He shew'd me a Wound in his Head, and said it was done when he was knock'd down, and he wish'd he had been kill'd quite.

Prisoner. I know nothing of it, for I had been light-headed several Weeks.

Nicholas Carter . 8 Years ago, I was with the Prisoner on board the Cornwal, in the Baltuck, and one Day the Lieutenant put him under Confinement, for being troublesome and out of-the-way.

William Costelow . 6 Years ago I was on board the Cornwal with the Prisoner at Spithead, and one Morning we went on shore at Portsmouth. We parted, and in a Quarter of an Hour I met him running with his Breeches down, and swearing, Damn his Blood, he was going to Putney. But a Man whipt him with a Horse-whip, and then he fell on his Knees.

Court. Was he drunk then?

William Costelow . I don't know; but when we went on board, the Captain enquir'd the meaning of it, and the Parson said, Let him be blooded. He continued on board 3 Months after, but plaid no more such Tricks - The Day of the Murder, I met him about 5 in the Evening, at the Steelyard, without his Hat. He said he had been to get an Enterprize of uncustom'd Goods (for he belongs to the Custom-house) and that he had hir'd a File of Soldiers, for a Shilling a Piece, to assist him - Then he spit in my Face, and went away, but he did not seem to be drunk.

John Cunningham . I was one that went a shore with the Prisoner, at Portsmouth - he was sociable at first, but soon after, we saw him running without Coat or Cap, with his Knife in his Hand; we took it from him, and then he pull'd his Breeches down, and threw his Shirt over his Head, and so ran from us, but the Cockswain met him and beat him.

Court. For being mad? Or for being drunk?

John Cunningham . I suppose he thought the Prisoner had shamm'd Madness.

Daniel Clay . About 9 a Clock the Night before the Murder, the Prisoner came to my House, and said he could help me to a Prentice, and if I'd go to Tower-hill I should see him. I told him it was too late, and we had better go to morrow; but he would needs have me go that Night, and so at last I went. When we came to Tower-hill, he could not find the House. Then he said it was in Bishop's-gate-street. We went to Aldgate, and he said it was somewhere there-abouts. He look'd at several Houses, but could not find the right. Thence he carried me into Fenchurch-street, where he said he was sure the House was not far off; but still was

at a Loss; and so, to humour him, I went from one Place to another, 'till I was out of Patience, and so I brought him back to Tower-Hill, where I left him.

Hannah Wade . The Prisoner, when he was upon Custom-house Duty, lodg'd 2 or 3 Nights a Week at my House, the Cock at Iron-Gate. About 10 at Night he came home, and said, he had been with Mr. Clay. He seem'd much disturb'd; he drank 2 Pints of Beer, and I bid him go to Bed and sleep. He said the Devil would not let him; but at last I got him up Stairs. Then he cry'd, Fire! Murder! and swore and tore at a strange Rate. By degrees he grew quiet, and I heard no more of him, 'till 3 in the Morning, when he came down, and my Maid let him out. He return'd about 9 the same Thursday Morning, put up his Oars, and seem'd very sober, 'till he call'd a poor Man in to give him some drink, but threw it all in his Face. He ask'd me to lend him a Guinea; I refus'd it. Then he said he was going to buy three Great-coats, and a Dozen of Fowls, which he would send home, and desir'd me to pay for them. To humour him I said, Yes. He went out and came in again. I was then mincing some Meat. He catch'd up the Knife, held me by the Head, and swore, Damn you for a Bitch, you would not lend me a Guinea, and now I'll cut your Throat. My Daughter, and Maid crying out, he turn'd round and threw the Meat and Pans in the Ashes; then he push'd the Knife against my Belly, but it being blunt, and my Coats thick, it did not hurt me. Then he went up Stairs, and made a great Uproar. I ask'd him what he was doing? He damn'd me for a Bitch, and said he was breaking the House. He threw Bricks out of the Window, came down with his Cloaths unbraced, ask'd me where his Knife was, spirted some Beer in my Face, and so ran out.

E. Smith, Wade's Maid. He call'd all Night upon the Devil, and, in the Morning, threw some Flowers, that stood in a Pot, about the House, went out and threw. Mud in Peoples Faces. He met a Soldier, ask'd him if he was a Man, anp then threw Dirt in his Face. The Soldier drawing his Sword, he ran away, and said, Will you kill a Madman? He threw a Girl's Walnuts, and a Woman's Greens about the Street. Then he ask'd me for some Soap, to wash himself. He rubb'd his Hands and Face with it, and then smear'd them all over with Soot, and so ran out, and blacked an old Man's Face. We went up into his Room, and there he had broke all the Windows to get out, I suppose, and break his Neck, tho' he could not because of the iron Bars; but he had thrown his Shoes into the next Yard - The last time he went from our House, was between 5 and 6 on Thursday Evening, and the Deceas'd was kill'd that Night.

Sam. Davis. I was his Partner in the Boat; we went out about 4 in the Morning, and he was pretty quiet 'till about 8, and then he swore he'd go to a Justice, and swear Treason against his Wife, for damn her, a Bitch, she lov'd the Pretender. He drank nothing while he was with me.

William Holbrook . I lodge with Daniel Clay , a Shoemaker; on Thursday Noon, the Prisoner came, and went up into the Garret, where the Men work; but none of them being there; he threw all their Tools about, and then came down, and said, he had made them a Holliday, and asked us to treat him. We gave him 3 d. Now, says he, I'll go, and buy as much Bread, and Cheese, and Gin, as you all can eat and drink. He came back with 3 penny Loaves, threw one at a Man's Head; and another thro' the Window, and the Woman calling to him to pay for the Glass, he ran away.

Robert Foster . On Thursday Afternoon, he came to my Office, in the Custom-house, and said, he had seiz'd a Cart-load of Co-chineal in Stock's-Market; but the Basket-woman had rescu'd it, and taken his Commission from him, and therefore he had got ten Men out of the Tower, to recover the Seizure, and wanted me to give him more Assistance - Some say, I talk like a Madman, says he, but what do you say? Will you lend me Assistance? I answer'd, No. Why then God damn you, says he, I'll serve the Crown no longer. He did not appear to be drunk,